approval
by weasleyey
Summary: Ron Weasley's take on things, from footie matches on the teevee to Draco Malfoy's pending proposal to Hermione Granger.


**A/N: I know what you're thinking, and you're absolutely right. I** _ **am**_ **trash. I have one ( _ONE_ ) week before finals and I'm sitting in a pile of my notes and thoughts of Ron Weasley. Sigh. **

**cheers, louise**

* * *

 **APPROVAL**

* * *

Ron had to restrain himself from screaming, remembering how last time Mrs. Burbage next door had complained. But really, did the Muggles on the screen before him have to be so stupid? The bloke had had the perfect opportunity to make a goal but instead had just passed the ball, and well, just thinking about it made Ron want to yell again.

Two months ago Hermione had introduced him to this Muggle device called the _teevee_. Ron had been skeptical about it at first (wouldn't the people on the screen be uncomfortable with him watching them?), but then Dean had come over with Seamus, Neville and Harry one Friday, pushed a button on the remote a few times and landed on something called _football_.

It had taken some persuasion at first (Ron had been bewildered at the fact that there were no _brooms_ and only _one_ ball), but Ron had quickly found himself hooked. Harry, unfortunately, didn't seem to get the craze, having grown up with it along with Dudley, but Neville did, and if he hadn't been at Hogwarts would've been yelling at the _teevee_ right alongside Ron. Dean still found it disconcerting how quickly the two of them had latched onto the sport.

When the game transferred to a commercial break, Ron was interrupted from his thoughts by the wards triggering, registering someone without malicious intent entering the perimeter. Still, Ron grabbed his wand as he went to the door. Once an Auror, always an Auror.

But even his Auror instincts couldn't have prepared him for the person at the door.

Draco Malfoy met his gaze, his hand raised as if to knock on the door. He cleared his throat. "Weasley."

It took him a few seconds, but Ron recovered. "Malfoy. Uh, what are you doing here? Is Herm-"

"Hermione's fine. I just-" Malfoy took a breath, before starting again. "Can I come in?"

Lacking any idea of what else to do, Ron opened the door wider and allowed Malfoy to step through. The other man looked around almost uneasily while Ron led him to the sofa.

"I, uh, like your telly."

Ron furrowed his eyebrows. "My what?"

Malfoy's antsiness only intensified, as he motioned to the _teevee_ , which was now focused on selling used cars. "Your telly."

"That's my _teevee_." Ron said uncertainly, not quite sure how this conversation had turned into this, but not quite willing to give up his position.

"That isn't what Granger said she called it a- but, that's besides the point." The blonde man rifled a hand through his hair and took a seat on Ron's couch. Ron took the cue to sit as well.

"And the point is?" Ron tries to act sorta posh and drawl, and put it in the way he sits and says that question. He's imitating Draco Malfoy, but the man himself doesn't notice, so wrapped up he is in choosing his words.

"I'm want permission to ask Granger to marry me." He blurts, and then goes back to his hair pulling again, this time babbling in time with the tugs. "I mean, not permission per say, Hermione's an independent women who'd kill me if I asked like I was going to barter her for some chickens or something, and you're not her father- I just, I want-"

"You want my approval."

Malfoy snaps out of it and nods. It crosses Ron only then how far things had come since Hogwarts.

Three years ago, he wouldn't have even thought about letting Draco Malfoy into his flat, into the place where he _lived_. But then again, he never thought he and Hermione would split, and she'd leave to make up her 7th year at Hogwarts while he went off to Auror training with Harry. He'd never have guessed that they wouldn't immediately get back together during winter break, instead bringing home an albino ferret bent on achieving redemption.

Hell, he hadn't expected that a year later he and Harry would be recommending him for the Auror program to their boss, after becoming somewhat _friends_ with the man.

Malfoy was looking at him questioningly, and Ron forced himself to look at the "telly" and think about how to answer the question. "Uh…" he said coherently.

And as he thinks about Malfoy's new role in his life, he remember something Hermione said, that Christmas eve in the Burrow when she'd brought Malfoy through the floo and Ron had nearly hexed him. She'd told him not to think about Draco, and who he was to Ron, but who he was to her.

Memories of Hermione from the past three years rushed through his mind: when she'd dragged Draco aside, who'd been shaking after apologizing to each Weasley individually, and how she'd looked at him before hugging him. How her face unconsciously brightened anytime Malfoy stepped into the room. How her face had been wrecked with secondhand grief when Lucius Malfoy died, even when the man had been nothing but evil to her, but something to Draco.

"Listen Weasley, I'm sorry for springing this on you, this is stupid anyway-" Ron realized that he could go on and on about Hermione's feelings toward Malfoy.

"Merlin," He told the other man, who'd been getting up and re-buttoning his cloak. " but Malfoy, if you think me saying no is going to stop Hermione from finding a way to marry you then you're more of an idiot than I thought."

Draco stopped unbuttoning his cloak and gave Ron a levelled look. "I know that dunderhead, but there's still some part of Hermione that thinks you'll all leave her if she stays with me."

Ron crinkled his brow. "After all this time?"

Malfoy nodded, taking a seat once again and helping himself to one of the chips Ron had been eating earlier. "Always. It's in her nature, she needs to be worrying about everything at once." He sighed as if this was a huge misfortune, but Ron caught the look in his eyes that said it was anything but.

"After Katie Bell's friends all but stopped talking to her when she got together with Marcus Flint, she went into a tizzy. It's why she was so jittery that Christmas Eve in the Burrow, you know."

It made sense. Still it'd been three years. Surely if he and Harry ever did completely lose their minds and decide to leave their friend, they would've done it by now? "But that's stupid." He told Malfoy. "Hermione's smarter than that."

But Draco just shook his head. "Not when it comes to her friends and stuff. She's better with things that are tangible, more concrete. You should've seen her when I first asked her out, I thought she was going to flip."

Ron didn't know that at all, and he doubted Harry did either. Sure he'd acknowledged that it'd probably taken guts to introduce the boy that they'd hated for years as her boyfriend, but beyond that he'd assumed that Hermione knew what she was doing.

After all, Hermione always knew what she was doing.

However, now that he was seeing the possibility that Hermione wasn't always sure, a lot of things she did made more sense. Huh.

He got up. "Would you like a drink, Malfoy?"

* * *

The infamous monthly Weasley Sunday Bruncheon had crept up on him yet again, and as he ran from the Apparation point to the Burrow's he hoped his mother wouldn't scold him too much. If she did, all the mince pie would definitely be finished.

Huffing with exhaustion, he reached the door to his parent's house, trying dwell about on how out shape he'd become since he'd started working more at George's shop. Bloody hell, he'd have to ask Harry to train with him. The thought of voluntary exercise temporarily put Ron off his appetite. Temporarily.

He pushed the handle to go into the kitchen, and was about to call out for his Mum when he realized that it wasn't his mother at the sink but a well, rather enamoured Hermione and Malfoy. His appetite was put out once again, this time for a slightly longer duration.

"I- uh, I assume everyone's in the dining room right?" Ron stuttered out. He didn't blame Hermione for the incredulous look after she gave after she stepped out of Malfoy's arms. He'd never heard himself call the room where they ate in a dining room before either.

"That'd be correct, Weasley." Malfoy intoned, sounding slightly pissed off, probably from the interruption. "After all, you have only lived here for most of your life."

Ron was about to reply, but suddenly realized Malfoy's drift. "Oh- I mean, uh, go snog in your own house Malfoy."

As he turned around and walked to the "dining room", Ron fought the urge to shoot finger guns at Draco for luck. He caught his drift. He just hoped Hermione knew what she was doing when she said yes.

* * *

"What was that about?" Hermione asked once the door shut, playing with her fiance's collar.

"What Weasley?" Draco drew her closer. "I thought he was just acting weird as usual." He leaned in and began kissing her neck.

"Malfoy, stop! No I meant, do you think he knows?" She gestured to the ring on her finger.

Draco simply chuckled. "Not yet I don't think. But I'm sure he'll approve." And he pulled her into to finish that snog.

* * *

 **I don't even know why I do this but like I love love _love_ Ron Weasley and I hate that whenever he's in a fic it's either a Ron-bashing festival or he's used as the blame for everything. I need him as the comic relief, and more importantly, the loyal friend to Hermione that he was before it got bullocks-ed up somewhere around Half-Blood Prince. Oh well. I hope you liked it, and that you review! **


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